Sigh.
The final nail in the coffin. Ladies and gentlemen, it's been confirmed, I am averse to grape-derived alcoholic beverages. The proverbial nail was the champagne on Sunday. Dammit! I've constantly maintained my lack of compatibility with wine, but I was pretty sure that it would not apply to sparkling wine, and champagne in particular. Boy, was I wrong! A couple of sips, and I could feel the 'Men At Work' sign going up in my brain, indicating some major drilling work in the pipeline. And by the fourth sip, I could feel the rumble in my sternum; one more sip, and you ascend the throne, it clearly said. Ah well, I'll stick to good ol' whiskey and rye from now on; even beer is beginning to take a toll on my digestive tract. Looks like when it comes to social beverages, I'm only into 'fine drinking'. Not such a bad thing; has Bond ever ordered a Bud? No? Point proven.
On another note, the siege mentality is up again. I know why, I'm just not going to get into it. And I think despite all the literature handed down, instinct dominates reason and theories. Walk in my shoes, then tell me how it feels. In a way, I do great injustice to the innate aptitude within me; instinct has more often than not been more prevalent than reflex when involving troubled times. And that's how it's going to be, for quite a while. Indefinitely. Until I alone decide otherwise. But yeah, the epiphany after four mugs of beer, one glass of champagne, a Kahlua and a shot of Bailey's. Realising my 'longcomings' after hearing about someone else's shortcomings has put things in perspective. Now, I delve inwards and pound sentiment into submission, shattering it beyond repair. Now I cut the Gordian knot that is the emotions which bind me in a fix. And I'm loving it, surprisingly enough. Am I deluding myself? Perhaps. Then again, do I give a flying fuck? Not really. And how am I going to go about it? Erm, by shopping?
Aahh shopping, I really need to get started on working the credit cards. Before the masses of uncivilised monkeys and apes descend upon every shopping mall in the city. The shopping list is short, but expensive. Another pair of shoes (maybe two), a wallet, a belt, couple of pairs of pants, shirts, EDT and maybe a new watch. And I haven't even started on my Christmas list yet. December is the nicest time of the year; it's also the most expensive one. Notwithstanding current microeconomic affairs, gifts are a given during the Yuletide merriment, and I do intend to be a tad more creative when it comes to choice. I've got meself the camera already, so that's a tick on my wishlist. I won't be fattening up the coffers of Times or Borders or MPH this time around; there are about 15 books on the waiting-to-be-read queue, and another two that have not been read to the fullest.
(Note to self: I really should stop munching on almonds, they're bloody addictive)
Speaking of which (blowing money), did a double header of Frangi's over the weekend. The last time I checked out the place was more than a couple of years ago, and I was pleasantly (if not mildly) surprised to discover that they play retro tunes all night long on Sundays. Not the usual rubbish that passes off as 80's hits in most joints, but a proper and diverse selection of jingles from the era of hairsprays, mousse, padded jackets and mullets. The less said about Friday nights, however, the better (wink wink). It's not as bad as Liquid used to be (is it still operating?). But overall, a friendly DJ, pleasant bartenders and yummy drinks...contentment all around. Well worth the RM 300+ spent. Also knocked back a couple of beers at the adjacent Gypsy Bar (I think); reasonably priced beer, coupled with a general aura of dodginess. Any place which has a majority of waitresses sporting Spanish accents doesn't inspire decency or style but like I said, affordable beer.
Hmm, drinking-EQ-shopping-clubbing; I seem to be hopping from topic to topic quicker than a Malaysian 'frog'. I should refrain from that, don't think it makes for smooth reading. Or does it break the droning monotony of the same issue? No feedback required, cause I don't really give a damn, dearies. What does stir up emotions, however, is this - how does one mess up so badly that one does not elicit any form of sentiment? I'm taken aback, to the point of incredulity. Honestly.
The final nail in the coffin. Ladies and gentlemen, it's been confirmed, I am averse to grape-derived alcoholic beverages. The proverbial nail was the champagne on Sunday. Dammit! I've constantly maintained my lack of compatibility with wine, but I was pretty sure that it would not apply to sparkling wine, and champagne in particular. Boy, was I wrong! A couple of sips, and I could feel the 'Men At Work' sign going up in my brain, indicating some major drilling work in the pipeline. And by the fourth sip, I could feel the rumble in my sternum; one more sip, and you ascend the throne, it clearly said. Ah well, I'll stick to good ol' whiskey and rye from now on; even beer is beginning to take a toll on my digestive tract. Looks like when it comes to social beverages, I'm only into 'fine drinking'. Not such a bad thing; has Bond ever ordered a Bud? No? Point proven.
On another note, the siege mentality is up again. I know why, I'm just not going to get into it. And I think despite all the literature handed down, instinct dominates reason and theories. Walk in my shoes, then tell me how it feels. In a way, I do great injustice to the innate aptitude within me; instinct has more often than not been more prevalent than reflex when involving troubled times. And that's how it's going to be, for quite a while. Indefinitely. Until I alone decide otherwise. But yeah, the epiphany after four mugs of beer, one glass of champagne, a Kahlua and a shot of Bailey's. Realising my 'longcomings' after hearing about someone else's shortcomings has put things in perspective. Now, I delve inwards and pound sentiment into submission, shattering it beyond repair. Now I cut the Gordian knot that is the emotions which bind me in a fix. And I'm loving it, surprisingly enough. Am I deluding myself? Perhaps. Then again, do I give a flying fuck? Not really. And how am I going to go about it? Erm, by shopping?
Aahh shopping, I really need to get started on working the credit cards. Before the masses of uncivilised monkeys and apes descend upon every shopping mall in the city. The shopping list is short, but expensive. Another pair of shoes (maybe two), a wallet, a belt, couple of pairs of pants, shirts, EDT and maybe a new watch. And I haven't even started on my Christmas list yet. December is the nicest time of the year; it's also the most expensive one. Notwithstanding current microeconomic affairs, gifts are a given during the Yuletide merriment, and I do intend to be a tad more creative when it comes to choice. I've got meself the camera already, so that's a tick on my wishlist. I won't be fattening up the coffers of Times or Borders or MPH this time around; there are about 15 books on the waiting-to-be-read queue, and another two that have not been read to the fullest.
(Note to self: I really should stop munching on almonds, they're bloody addictive)
Speaking of which (blowing money), did a double header of Frangi's over the weekend. The last time I checked out the place was more than a couple of years ago, and I was pleasantly (if not mildly) surprised to discover that they play retro tunes all night long on Sundays. Not the usual rubbish that passes off as 80's hits in most joints, but a proper and diverse selection of jingles from the era of hairsprays, mousse, padded jackets and mullets. The less said about Friday nights, however, the better (wink wink). It's not as bad as Liquid used to be (is it still operating?). But overall, a friendly DJ, pleasant bartenders and yummy drinks...contentment all around. Well worth the RM 300+ spent. Also knocked back a couple of beers at the adjacent Gypsy Bar (I think); reasonably priced beer, coupled with a general aura of dodginess. Any place which has a majority of waitresses sporting Spanish accents doesn't inspire decency or style but like I said, affordable beer.
Hmm, drinking-EQ-shopping-clubbing; I seem to be hopping from topic to topic quicker than a Malaysian 'frog'. I should refrain from that, don't think it makes for smooth reading. Or does it break the droning monotony of the same issue? No feedback required, cause I don't really give a damn, dearies. What does stir up emotions, however, is this - how does one mess up so badly that one does not elicit any form of sentiment? I'm taken aback, to the point of incredulity. Honestly.
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